I was always a little in awe of Great-aunt Stephina Roos. Indeed, as children we were all frankly terrified of her. The fact that she did not live with the family, preferring her tiny cottage and solitude to the comfortable but rather noisy household where we were brought up-added to the respectful fear in which she was held.
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　　We used to take it in turn to carry small delicacies which my mother had made down from the big house to the little cottage where Aunt Stephia and an old colored maid spent their days. Old Tnate Sanna would open the door to the rather frightened little messenger and would usher him-or her - into the dark voor-kamer, where the shutters were always closed to keep out the heat
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　　She was a tiny little woman to inspire so much veneration. She was always dressed in black, and her dark clothes melted into the shadows of the voor-kamer and made her look smaller than ever. But you felt. The moment she entered. That something vital and strong and somehow indestructible had come in with her, although she moved slowly, and her voice was sweet and soft.
　
　　She never embraced us. She would greet us and take out hot little hands in her own beautiful cool one, with blue veins standing out on the back of it, as though the white skin were almost too delicate to contain them.
　　
　　Tante Sanna would bring in dishes of sweet, sweet, sticky candy, or a great bowl of grapes or peaches, and Great-aunt Stephina would converse gravely about happenings on the farm ,and, more rarely, of the outer world.
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　　When we had finished our sweetmeats or fruit she would accompany us to the stoep, bidding us thank our mother for her gift and sending quaint, old-fashioned messages to her and the Father. Then she would turn and enter the house, closing the door behind, so that it became once more a place of mystery.
　　
　　As I grew older I found, rather to my surprise, that I had become genuinely fond of my aloof old great-aunt. But to this day I do not know what strange impulse made me take George to see her and to tell her, before I had confided in another living soul, of our engagement. To my astonishment, she was delighted.
　　 　　
　　"An Englishman,"she exclaimed."But that is splendid, splendid. And you,"she turned to George,"you are making your home in this country? You do not intend to return to England just yet?"
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　　She seemed relieved when she heard that George had bought a farm near our own farm and intended to settle in South Africa. She became quite animated, and chattered away to him.
　
　　After that I would often slip away to the little cottage by the mealie lands. Once she was somewhat disappointed on hearing that we had decided to wait for two years before getting married, but when she learned that my father and mother were both pleased with the match she seemed reassured.
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　　Still, she often appeared anxious about my love affair, and would ask questions that seemed to me strange, almost as though she feared that something would happen to destroy my romance. But I was quite unprepared for her outburst when I mentioned that George thought of paying a lightning visit to England
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before we were married."He must not do it,"she cried."Ina, you must not
world of warcraft power leveling,let him go. Promise me you will prevent him."she was trembling all over. I did what I could to console her, but she looked so tired and pale that I persuaded her to go to her room and rest, promising to return the next day.

My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?

I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter, Sindu, looked frightened; tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with curd rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.
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I cleared my throat and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling, why don't you take a few mouthful of this curd rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear'.

Sindu softened a bit and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. 'Ok, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'

'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal. Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindu, dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. Ok?'
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'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested. After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All our attention was on her. 'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand.

'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!'

'Never in our family!' My mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'

'Sindu, darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'

'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.
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'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?'

It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'

'Are you out of your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.

'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honour her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'

With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.
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On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned around and waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!' What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.

'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued, 'that boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from... leukemia'. She paused to muffle her sobs. 'Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son!
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Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.'

I stood transfixed and then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how selfless real love is!'

The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they love !!

There are some people who are completely happy with themselves, their lives, and their prospects for the future. While they can be considered to be more fortunate than most, most who do not fall into that category are not as bad off as they tend to believe. Instead, they are simply lacking something, or making mistakes, which are standing in the way of their lives being as fulfilling as they would prefer. Some even go as far as to not realize the immense potential they possess.
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What is the main difference between those lucky individuals whose lives seem to be wonderfully on-track and those who, often despite every step of trying on their part, appear to have all of the odds stacked against them? While in some cases it is a matter of some people having better luck than others, those whose lives are content in the moment and proceeding in the direction of their choice, do not live in the past.

Whether you are thinking about your personality or your life in general, success means focusing on the here-and-now. While it is important to acknowledge the choices and experiences which resulted in you being where you are today, it is equally important to not allow yourself to become so caught up in thoughts of the past that the present day passes you by.

Self-motivation is the key to ensuring that you do not continue repeating the same mistakes. You may have had one or more errors in judgment which led you to take the wrong path, or to make mistakes that were not in your best interest. You can acknowledge this without rehashing them over and over again in your mind, and simply be determined to make different, better decisions today.
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Then is over; this is now. The less time and effort you put into looking at the past, the more you will have for living and experiencing this day. You will also find that letting go of the past will give you a deeper sense of strength. Instead of allowing past mistakes and worries to drain your energies, you will have a renewed energy to live your life to the fullest and enjoy it more.

Being content with yourself and optimistic about your future is not difficult. Whatever is in the past is over; learn from it and move on. When you are self-motivated enough to do this, you will see that moving ahead is the best definition of living life.
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With that said, what can you do now? Sure it is easy for me to tell you to forget the past, yet it is a whole different practice to actually do it. Life is a complex set of events much of which of course is real, yet a large amount is just your view of what really happened.

Let me explain with an example. I know not everyone is a football fan but I am guessing most have watched at least part of a game on TV. Most plays and almost all the important plays are played over and over on the TV screen right after the play happened.
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How many times have you watched a play and were certain and I mean certain of the outcome, say the player caught a pass, then watching the instant replay you realize you were totally wrong, the player dropped the pass. What you were certain you saw, never happened.

The first step in trying to minimize the effects of your past in order to concentrate on your future is to find out how much of the past that you are certain happened were just mistakes on your part.
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A quick example might be as a teenager you tried to build a piece of furniture out of scrape wood in your father’s workshop. The piece of furniture looked good when you finished but fell apart before you could show your father and you assumed your were a lousy carpenter and the rest of your life you have avoided building anything. Yet the reality was the scrap wood you used was faulty and not your building ability.

Yet the rest of your life you have believed mistakenly you are a poor builder of things.

The Amphibian Survival Alliance will bring together existing projects and organisations, improving co-ordination, scientific research and fund-raising.

About a third of amphibian species are threatened with extinctions.

A two-day summit held last week in London identified the two main threats as destruction of habitat and the fungal disease（真菌病） chytridiomycosis.

"The world's amphibians（两栖类） are facing an uphill battle（艰难的斗争） for survival," said James Collins, co-chair of the Amphibian Specialist Group (ASG) co-ordinated by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN).

"By far the worst threats are infectious disease and habitat destruction, so the Alliance will focus on these issues first."

Last week's meeting, held at the Zoological Society of London (ZSL), declared that research into possible treatments for the chytrid（壶菌） fungus should be a top priority.
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Identified only a decade ago, the fungus now infects amphibians in the Americas, Australia, Europe, Asia and Africa.

How it originated and how it kills are matters of ongoing research.

But in practical terms, finding something that can stop it in open country rather than the laboratory is the big challenge.

Researchers have found that some amphibian species carry chemicals on their skin that provide a natural defence.

The idea is to see whether these chemicals can be turned into something that can attack the fungus in the wild, providing a defence for species that currently have none.
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The new Amphibian Survival Alliance (ASA) sees this line of research as an urgent priority.

More difficult to tackle（处理，抓住） will be the ongoing destruction of habitat that is a concern in most continents, but especially in parts of Asia that are seeing rapid expansion of cities, industry and infrastructure.

"If we want to stop the amphibian extinction crisis, we have to protect the areas where amphibians are threatened by habitat destruction," said Claude Gascon, the Amphibian Specialist Group's other co-chair.
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"One of the reasons amphibians are in such dire（可怕的，悲惨的） straits（困难，窘境） is because many species are only found in single sites and are therefore much more susceptible to（对……敏感的） habitat loss."

As a group, amphibians are considerably more threatened than birds, mammals, fish or reptiles（爬行动物）.

Apart from habitat loss and chytrid, issues of concern are:
unsustainable hunting for food, medicine and the pet trade
chemical pollution
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climatic change
introduced species
other infectious diseases

The formation of the ASA was proposed in 2006 but adequate financial and institutional backing did not materialise.

At that stage scientists were divided over how money and resources should be split between conservation in the wild and captive breeding.
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Now there is general agreement that both strategies are necessary.

Initial backing emerged at the ZSL meeting in the form of a $200,000 pledge that will fund the ASA co-ordinator's post for two years.

It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?
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Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry, but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear, the happy past seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands, that she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.
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Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long has it been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.

The next day, I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.

And again, she comes. And again, she brings me an apple, flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.

This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

For seven months, we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.
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One day, I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend. The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple tomorrow," I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see me standing there, with tears streaming down my face.

Months pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, I taste those apples.

And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life. Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.
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"Where were you during the war?" Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.

"I was in a concentration camp in Germany," I reply.

Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy."

Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other-after all, we were young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could-but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."
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With my heart pounding so loudly I think it wil1 explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, "And did that boy say to you one day, 'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'?"

"Why, yes," Roma responds, her voice trembling.

"But, Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?"

I take her hands in mine and answer, "Because I was that young boy, Roma."

For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other, and as the veils of time lift, we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving, whom we have never stopped remembering.

Finally, I speak: "Look, Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now, I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?"

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I see that same twinkle in her eye that I used to see as Roma says, "Yes, I will marry you," and we embrace, the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us. Now, nothing ever will again.

Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.

Valentine's Day, 1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:

"Darling, you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry, for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."

... You see that big nail to the right of the front door? I can scarcely look at it even now and yet I could not bear to take it out. I should like to think it was there always even after my time. I sometimes hear the next people saying, “There must have been a cage hanging from there.” And it comforts me. I feel he is not quite forgotten. world of warcraft gold

　　... You cannot imagine how wonderfully he sang. It was not like the singing of other canaries. And that isn't just my fancy. Often, from the window I used to see people stop at the gate to listen, or they would lean over the fence by the mock-orange2) for quite a long time — carried away. I suppose it sounds absurd to you — it wouldn't if you had heard him — but it really seemed to me he sang whole songs, with a beginning and an end to them.

　　For instance, when I finished the house in the afternoon, and changed my blouse and brought my sewing on the verandah3) here, he used to hop, hop, hop from one perch4) to the other, tap against the bars as if to attract my attention, sip a little water, just as a professional singer might, and then break into a song so exquisite5) that I had to put my needle down to listen to him. I can't describe it; I wish I could. But it was always the same, every afternoon, and I felt that I understood every note of it.

　　... I loved him. How I loved him! Perhaps it does not matter so very much what it is one loves in this world. But love something one must! Of course there was always my little house and the garden, but for some reason they were never enough. Flowers respond wonderfully, but they don't sympathize. Then I loved the evening star. Does that sound ridiculous? I used to go into the backyard, after sunset, and wait for it until it shone above the dark gum tree. I used to whisper, “There you are, my darling.” And just in that first moment it seemed to be shining for me alone. It seemed to understand this... something which is like longing, and yet it is not longing. Or regret — it is more like regret. And yet regret for what? I have much to be thankful for!

　　... But after he came into my life I forgot the evening star; I did not need it any more. But it was strange. When the Chinaman who came to the door with birds to sell held him up in his tiny cage, and instead of fluttering6), fluttering, like the poor little goldfinches7), he gave a faint, small chirp8). I found myself saying, just as I had said to the star over the gum tree, “There your are, my darling.” From that moment he was mine! cheap wow gold

　　... It surprises even me now to remember how he and I shared each other's lives. The moment I came down in the morning and took the cloth off his cage he greeted me with a drowsy9) little note. I knew it meant “Missus10)! Missus!” Then I hung him on the nail outside while I got my three young men their breakfasts, and I never brought him in, to do his cage, until we had the house to ourselves again. Then, when the washing-up was done, it was quite a little entertainment. I spread a newspaper over a corner of the table and when I put the cage on it he used to beat with his wings, despairingly, as if he didn't know what was coming. “You're a regular little actor,” I used to scold him. I scraped, dusted it with fresh sand, filled his seed and water tins, tucked a piece of chickweed11) and half a chili12) between the bars. And I am perfectly certain he understood and appreciated every item of this little performance. You see by nature he was exquisitely neat. There was never a speck13) on his perch. And you'd only to see him enjoy his bath to realise he had a real small passion for cleanliness. His bath was put in last. And themoment it was in he positively leapt into it. First he fluttered one wing, then the other, then he ducked his head and dabbled14) his breast feathers. Drops of water were scattered all over the kitchen, but still he would not get out. I used to say to him, “Now that's quite enough. You're only showing off.” And at last out he hopped and standing on one leg he began to peck himself dry. Finally he gave a shake, a flick15), a twitter16) and he lifted his throat — Oh, I can hardly bear to recall it. I was always cleaning the knives by then. And it almost seemed to me the knives sang too, as I rubbed them bright on the board. (buy wow gold)

　　... Company, you see, that was what he was. Perfect company. If you have lived alone you will realize how precious that is. Of course there were my three young men who came in to supper every evening, and sometimes they stayed in the dining-room afterwards reading the paper. But I could not expect them to be interested in the little things that made my day. Why should they be? I was nothing to them. In fact, I overheard them one evening talking about me on the stairs as “the Scarecrow17)”. No matter. It doesn't matter. Not in the least. I quite understand. They are young. Why should I mind? But I remember feeling so especially thankful that I was not quite alone that evening. I told him, after they had gone. I said, “Do you know what they call Missus?” And he put his head on one side and looked at me with his little bright eye until I could not help laughing. It seemed to amuse him.

　　... Have you kept birds? If you haven't, all this must sound, perhaps, exaggerated. People have the idea that birds are heartless, cold little creatures, not like dogs or cats. My washerwoman used to say every Monday when she wondered why I didn't keep “a nice fox terrier”, “There's no comfort, Miss, in a canary.” Untrue! Dreadfully untrue! I remember one night. I had had a very awful dream — dreams can be terribly cruel — even after I had woken up I could not get over it. So I put on my dressing-gown and came down to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was a winter night and raining hard. I suppose I was half asleep still, but through the kitchen window that hadn't a blind, it seemed to me the dark was staring in, spying. And suddenly I felt it was unbearable that I had no one to whom I could say, “I've had such a dreadful dream,” or — “Hide me from the dark.” I even covered my face for a minute. And then there came a little“Sweet! Sweet!” His cage was on the table, and the cloth had slipped so that a chink18) of light shone through. “Sweet! Sweet!” said the darling little fellow again, softly, as much as to say, “I'm here, Missus. I'm here!” That was so beautifully comforting that I nearly cried. (world of warcraft gold)

　　... And now he's gone. I shall never have another bird, another pet of any kind. How could I? When I found him, lying on his back, with his eye dim and his claws wrung, when I realised that never again should I hear my darling sing, something seemed to die in me. My breast felt hollow, as if it was his cage. I shall get over it. Of course. I must. One can get over anything in time. And people always say I have a cheerful disposition. They are quite right. I thank God I have.

　　... All the same, without being morbid19), or giving way to — to memories and so on, I must confess that there does seem to me something sad in life. It is hard to say what it is. I don't mean the sorrow that we all know, like illness and poverty and death. No, it is something different. It is there, deep down, deep down, part of one, like one's breathing. However hard I work and tire myself I have only to stop to know it is there, waiting. I often wonder if everybody feels the same. One can never know. But isn't it extraordinary that under his sweet, joyful little singing it was just this — sadness? — Ah, what is it? — that I heard.

“To be or not to be”. Outside the Bible, there six words are the most famous in all the literature of the world. They were spoken by Hamlet when he was thinking aloud, and they are the most famous words in Shakespeare because Hamlet was speaking not only foe himself but for every thinking man and woman. To be or not to be－to live or not to live, to live richly and abundantly and eagerly, or to live dully and meanly and scarcely. A philosopher once wanted to know whether he was alive or not, which is a good question for everyone to put to himself occasionally. He answered it by saying:“I think, therefore I am.”(wow gold)

But the best definition of existence I ever saw was one written by another philosopher who said:“To be is to be in relations.”If this is true, then the more relations a living thing has, the more relations a living thing has, the more it is alive. To live abundantly means simply to increase the range and intensity of our relations. Unfortunately we are so constituted that we get to love our routine. But apart from our regular occupation how much are we alive? If you are interested only in your regular occupation, you are alive only to that extent. So far as other things are concerned－poetry and prose, music, pictures, sports, unselfish friendships, politics, international affairs－you are dead.(buy wow gold)

Contrariwise, it is true that every time you acquire a new interest－even more, a new accomplishment－you increase your power of life. No one who is deeply interested in a large variety of subjects can remain unhappy, the real pessimist is the person who has lost interest.

Bacon said that a man dies as often as he loss a friend. But we gain new life by contacts, new friends. What is supremely true of living objects is only less true of ideas, which are also alive. Where your thoughts are, there will your life be also. If your thoughts are confined only to your business, only to your physical welfare, only to the narrow circle of the town in which you live,(cheap wow gold), then you live in a narrow circle of the town in which you live, then you live in a narrow circumscribed life. But if you are interested in what is going on in China, then you are living in China; if you are interested in the characters of a good novel, then you are living with those highly interesting people; if you listen intently to fine music, you are away from your immediate surroundings and living in a world of passion and imagination.(world of warcraft gold)

To be or not to be－to live intensely and richly, or merely to exist, that depends on ourselves. Let us widen and intensify our relations. While we live, let us live!

Can it really be sixty-two years ago that I first saw you?

It is truly a lifetime, I know. But as I gaze into your eyes now, it seems like only yesterday that I first saw you, in that small café in Hanover Square. (power leveling)

From the moment I saw you smile, as you opened the door for that young mother and her newborn baby. I knew. I knew that I wanted to share the rest of my life with you.

I still think of how foolish I must have looked, as I gazed at you, that first time. I remember watching you intently, as you took off your hat and loosely shook your short dark hair with your fingers. I felt myself becoming 1)immersed in your every detail, as you placed your hat on the table and cupped your hands around the hot cup of tea, gently blowing the steam away with your 2)pouted lips.

From that moment, everything seemed to make perfect sense to me. The people in the café and the busy street outside all disappeared into a 3)hazy 4)blur. All I could see was you.

All through my life I have relived that very first day. Many, many times I have sat and thought about that the first day, and how for a few 5)fleeting moments I am there, feeling again what is like to know true love for the very first time. It pleases me that I can still have those feelings now after all those years, and I know I will always have them to comfort me.

Not even as I shook and trembled uncontrollably in the 6)trenches, did I forget your face. I would sit huddled into the wet mud, terrified, as the hails of bullets and mortars crashed down around me. I would 7)clutch my rifle tightly to my heart, and think again of that very first day we met. I would cry out in fear, as the noise of war beat down around me. But, as I thought of you and saw you smiling back at me, everything around me would be become silent, and I would be with you again for a few precious moments, far from the death and destruction. It would not be until I opened my eyes once again, that I would see and hear the 8)carnage of the war around me.

I cannot tell you how strong my love for you was back then, when I returned to you on leave in the September, feeling 9)battered, bruised and fragile. We held each other so tight I thought we would burst. I asked you to marry me the very same day and I 10)whooped with joy when you looked deep into my eyes and said "yes" to being my bride.(wow power level)

I`m looking at our wedding photo now, the one on our dressing table, next to your jewellery box. I think of how young and innocent we were back then. I remember being on the church steps grinning like a 11)Cheshire cat, when you said how dashing and handsome I looked in my uniform. The photo is old and faded now, but when I look at it, I only see the bright vibrant colors of our youth. I can still remember every detail of the pretty wedding dress your mother made for you, with its fine delicate lace and pretty pearls. If I concentrate hard enough, I can smell the sweetness of your wedding bouquet as you held it so proudly for everyone to see.

I remember being so over enjoyed, when a year later, you gently held my hand to your waist and whispered in my ear that we were going to be a family.

I know both our children love you dearly; they are outside the door now, waiting.

Do you remember how I panicked like a mad man when Jonathon was born? I can still picture you laughing and smiling at me now, as I 12)clumsily held him for the very first time in my arms. I watched as your laughter faded into tears, as I stared at him and cried my own tears of joy.

Sarah and Tom arrived this morning with little Tessie. Can you remember how we both hugged each other tightly when we saw our tiny granddaughter for the first time? I can`t believe she will be eight next month. I am trying not to cry, my love, as I tell you how beautiful she looks today in her pretty dress and red shiny shoes, she reminds me so much of you that first day we met. She has her hair cut short now, just like yours was all those years ago. When I met her at the door her smile wrapped around me like a warm glove, just like yours used to do, my darling.world of warcraft power leveling

I know you are tired, my dear, and I must let you go. But I love you so much it hurts to do so.

As we grew old together, I would tease you that you had not changed since we first met. But it is true, my darling. I do not see the wrinkles and grey hair that other people see. When I look at you now, I only see your sweet tender lips and youthful sparkling eyes as we sat and had out first picnic next to that small stream, and chased each other around that big old oak tree. I remember wishing those first few days together would last forever. Do you remember how exciting and wonderful those days were?

I must go now, my darling. Our children are waiting outside. They want to say goodbye to you.

I wipe the tears away from my eyes and bend my frail old legs down to the floor, so that I can kneel beside you. I lean close to you and take hold of your hand and kiss your tender lips for the very last time.

She enjoyed Strauss, KFC and Brazil Espresso, I know, she was like a busy bee in an office building in a decent grey dress suite. That was the case before she met me and all this has vanished since she fell in love with me.
 Let me date back to 1997. I started my socalled business and she followed me without any reservation. That summer came very early and the flowers made a red city. We lived in a small suburb house, which was an illegal construction, with wind blowing through four sides into the house. That made our temporary home.

 Just for saving money, we walked to our downtown store in the mooring, ate very simple lunch just worth 1.5 Yuan for each, and walked back home in the evening, thus we felt totally exhausted every day. We seemed to live through one whole year in such situation. (world of warcraft gold)

　We tasted hardships and sorrows in those days.At that time, the business was my totem, while the love was her belief. These were all on which we could rely to go ahead.

One day, we walked home very late. She sat at the bed edge and washed her feet. I went to the landlord for boiled water to make instant noodles. When I came back with a thermos bottle, I found that she had fallen into a sound sleep. She kept a pose of being totally exhausted with her feet dunked in the basin. One of her arms was under her body, thus a light snore could be heard. I tiptoed to the bed with the intention of flipping her over to make her more comfortable. I gazed at her face, a young and pretty one which was filled with tiredness. On this pretty face, I found a mosquito.

That summer, the city was like a huge steamer box. We put off the time of buying a mosquito net one day after another just for saving money. I knew mosquitoes flew everywhere in our room, but it seemed nothing to me. So exhausted when lying on the bed, I doubted whether I would wake up even if someone cut a piece off my body, let alone mosquitoes bit me. (cheap wow gold)

　The mosquito lay on her forehead and sucked her blood greedily. She was sleeping like a baby and feeling nothing at all. Perhaps she was dreaming of our business turning better. There came a sudden throb in my heart. I reached my hands and waved, but the mosquito cared nothing about my threat. With the intention of patting it to death, I raised my hand high, but could not bear to pat down. I was afraid of waking her up -- because she was so worn out.

Between her and me, a puny mosquito was harming her at the moment. I stood there woodenly with my hand in the air. I fell into conflict and worry. Suddenly, I began to detest myself deeply. On that summer night, I stood there with an extremely guilty feeling for her and our love. After the mosquito flew away, I forgave it, but I could not forgive myself.(buy wow gold)

　When I passed by a peddler‘s stall one day, I found a pink mosquito net priced at 16 Yuan. Many things could be done with the money at that time. Then I stayed up the whole night, waving a hardboard to keep mosquitoes from approaching her just like a guard. I acted as her temporary mosquito net. After a while, she woke up and gazed at me. Ten minutes later, tears flooded her face.

  T　he next day a pink mosquito net hung in my room. We just kept silent when hanging it on our bed. I gave it to her as a gift, but I did not tell her my intention. I felt it was like a full-blown rose which could be regarded as my compensation for the love. But I thought that nothing could really make it up. That day was also her birthday. (World of warcraft gold)

Still later, there was a period of time, I got or we got 160,000 Yuan. We bought a lot of things, but we never bought a mosquito net. We did not need mosquito net any more, because no mosquito could fly into our well-decorated room. However, I always feel that all my money and belongings are far less valuable than the 16-yuan mosquito net to her or to our love.

That summer was gone. We could do nothing but love each other.

The politics of protest
Pierre Bourdieu has become a leading figure in the radical movements that have swept France in the last few years. He talked to Kevin Ovenden about anti-capitalism and resistance The Weight of the World was recently published in Britain. It describes through interviews in the early 1990s the 'social suffering of contemporary society'. Why is life getting harder for most people? There are similarities between what has happened to people's lives in France and in Britain. The main issue, of course, is neo-liberalism and what I call the retreat of the state. The state has abandoned a lot of areas that it was involved in, such as healthcare, education, and social provision. When we conducted this study it was only beginning. Now it is far worse. So for example, in France neo-liberal philosophy has become embedded in all the social practices and policies of the state. It has become internalised in the minds of the political establishment. The minister of education who was recently forced out of office, Claude Allre, was very similar to the one you have in Britain. He introduced into education so called 'tough policies'--a drive for efficiency and productivity. Instead of looking very carefully at how education works, the neo-liberals opt for a very simple solution. They create competition between schools and between the directors of schools, who have to compete for budgets and for students. This competition is fake--it is artificially constructed. It does not arise spontaneously from the way the education system works. power leveling
The education system was not perfect. I was very critical of it. But instead of correcting it and providing the means to better it, they destroy it by introducing this capitalistic vision of education. One could say the same about healthcare. I recently read a record of a meeting between a group of professors of medicine who are traditionally very conservative. They went to meet prime minister Jospin. He did not receive them. A technocrat met them instead. The transcript of the discussion is terrible. The people say, 'Look, I never demonstrated or participated in any strike or protest movement. But for the first time I am forced to speak out on behalf of my patients.' One gave an example of a 73 year old woman who had cancer, but her medicine was too expensive for the hospital's budget. Another said that his hospital does not have the money to pay anaesthetists, so there are no anaesthetists at night. He asked the technocrat, 'Would you send your wife to such a hospital?' He replies, 'That's a personal question which I will not answer.' We are seeing a blind and chaotic response to the problems of public institutions. We have had a very hierarchical system in healthcare for many years. But after 1968 younger people tried to change it. They tried to make the system more collective and introduce the idea of working as part of a team. Now that is being destroyed because they work under the threat of cuts and demands for greater productivity. Centre-left parties are in government across most of Europe. They are presiding over these neo-liberal policies. Do you see anything new in the way social democratic parties are governing? (World of warcraft Power Leveling)
I am very sceptical about the idea that there is this new approach called the Third Way or the Neue Mitte. We have, to varying degrees across the continent, basically neo-liberal policies dressed up with talk of a new form of politics which is not terribly new at all. So we find social democratic rhetoric being deployed to destroy the social democratic policies which grew up in the period after the Second World War. In France many of those pushing this offensive hail from the 1968 generation. They became radicalised then, but now are incorporated into the system. The failure of the Mitterrand years generated a backlash against the French Socialist Party. Of course, the great revolt of December 1995 ushered in a wave of social movements which brought the Socialists back into power. But the aim of the government and its technocrats is to curtail and destroy those movements. Ministers and advisers use their prestige and experience from 1968 against the movements. When students occupied the ole Normale Supieur, the government figure arguing to send the police in firmly and swiftly had himself taken part in the occupations of 1968. People in Germany and in Britain often tell me that it must be wonderful to live in France with the 35 hour week and other reforms. But those gains are a result of the pressure of the movements. They are not freely given by the government. The left government believes it can be more successful than the right in controlling those movements. How do your sociological ideas influence your political stance? You developed your ideas when structuralism was the main influence on French intellectuals. (World of warcraft gold)
I was not a structuralist. That approach saw the world as composed of structures which strictly determine the way people act. There was no scope for human agency. As the structuralist Marxist Louis Althusser said in the 1960s, human beings were merely the 'unconscious bearers of objective structures'. The results of my anthropological work in Algeria in the 1950s did not fit into this structuralist framework. Of course people are structured by society. They are not, as free market theory holds, isolated individuals each deciding a course of action by making individual economic calculations. I developed the concept of 'habitus' to incorporate the objective structures of society and the subjective role of agents within it. The habitus is a set of dispositions, reflexes and forms of behaviour people acquire through acting in society. It reflects the different positions people have in society, for example, whether they are brought up in a middle class environment or in a working class suburb.(buy wow gold)

It is part of how society reproduces itself. But there is also change. Conflict is built into society. People can find that their expectations and ways of living are suddenly out of step with the new social position they find themselves in. This is happening in France today. Then the question of social agency and political intervention becomes very important. The heart of Marxism is the struggle by the working class for its own emancipation. Where do you place the struggles of the working class within the spectrum of the social movements you are involved in?
Seattle brought together organised labour and various single-issue campaigns. They were often mobilised on different political bases, but they influenced one another. That is new. For the first time we have the possibility of aggregating these kinds of people who were very suspicious of one another. In France we have this tradition of workerism which is anti-intellectual. The unions are very hostile to intellectuals and the intellectuals are very distant from workers. In 1968 it was very visible. Now for the first time because of the failure of Soviet Marxism we are free from that. So I can speak with a CGT official as I am speaking to you. They are very open. In a sense intellectuals like me did not exist 20 years ago. People like Sartre and Foucault were sympathetic to the movement, but they did not have much empirical knowledge of workers. Seattle is very important in showing how new forces are developing. The small farmers' leader Jos?Bov?is well informed. He expresses himself clearly without the oversimplification which you hear from politicians. He is an intellectual. But at the same time he works on his farm. I recently organised a meeting of all the leaders of the social movements in France--the unemployed, the sans papiers immigrants, some trade unionists. You had anarchists, Trotskyists, Marxists--all types. The discussion was at a level you could not imagine. You can see the revival of a left political culture in the huge sales of Le Monde Diplomatique. Some suspicion still remains among those who are working together, of course. But at the end of the meeting they gave Raisons d'Agir, the group I am involved in, a mandate to issue a charter for a European social movement. We must escape nationalist division and have an international movement to fight against global capital. How can the movements generalise and how will the different ideas within them be clarified? (cheap wow gold)
The way the movement will develop is open. It is a process. We plan to publish an appeal for a European movement against neo-liberalism in May. We are seeking the support of the DGB union federation in Germany, the CGT in France, intellectuals, social movements and many different organisations. There will be a meeting in September of different movements to elaborate this charter. Then we will hold a conference in Athens in March of next year to discuss that and try to create the foundations of a social Europe. We have many ideas, but we must work on them. The aim is to create an intellectual and practical opposition. It is not only intellectuals. One of the most important leaders of one of the main unions in Greece wants to fund the conference. Our mission is to organise and try to help people to communicate. There is a division of labour in this developing movement. Social scientists can help to overcome difficulties. If we want an effective social movement at the level of Europe we must overcome that--otherwise we will disappear. There are powerful political obstacles between people. The main obstacles come from the social democratic movement. If we succeed in overcoming these it will lead to a genuine Third Way which will be much more radical. We need to build the left of the left. In the ecology movement you have people who are really on the left--even among the Communist Party, which has had a deadening effect on the left in France. Many people are coming to realise that globalisation is more of a political imperative than an economic fact. Three quarters of the exchange of goods in Europe is internal to Europe. The social democratic parties in power could implement policies to limit the free market. How will we force them? Will we require a new political party? (World of warcraft gold)
I don't know. It would be nice if we could force them, but I am not sure if we can. It seems to me there is a crisis of the social democratic governments. In Britain the crisis of Blairism has well and truly started. There is also the crisis of the right wing parties in much of Europe, particularly the CDU in Germany. The true left has always faced a false choice: you vote for the right or you accept this fake left wing. We have had the same problem in France since 1981. Forces other than the left are trying to gain a hearing. So we see the Haider phenomenon in Austria. But he has not gone unchallenged. The recreation of a true left wing movement will be the main instrument of the destruction of Haider. Nobody spoke about Le Pen and the National Front in France during the hot winter of 1995 in France. The mass movement in defence of pensions in Italy also marginalised the far right. Whether the revival of the left will lead to a new party is an open question. So too is how ideas will be clarified. The main thing is to build the movement. No one should doubt the radical changes that are happening in the way people think. I am more optimistic about the future than at any time in the last three decades, despite the seeming triumph of global capitalism.